"Al O? Is that you?" The old woman looked up from her puddle, pushing her soaked hat brim and hair back, pulling herself back out of the mud.
She completely ignored the brute as he laughed again, casually sticking out a foot and tripping her again. Some people laughed and the guy turned and walked away, elbowing some other men as he got back into line.
This time she stumbled straight into Alan, getting mud all over his doublet and shirt, although she barely noticed that either as her eyes wandered over Alan's facial features. She put her muddy hands on his elbows, more smearing, putting her weight on him.
"It... It is you... Look...I shouldn't have come.. We were trying to wait. They told me DON'T GO! But, it's all happening too fast... If we don't DO SOMETHING all is lost. It might already be too late! Oh dear me-oh-my!"
The woman's eyes got big and she started to cry, right there on the spot, holding Alan in the mud.
"It's... Alan, actually..." Alan paused as mud caked his outfit, the words do you know how long it took me to make this and how much it cost rising in his throat before he caught himself and reminded himself that it was just a suit and it could be cleaned.
He led her away from the line, shouting over his shoulder, "I'm just going to make sure she's okay." Upon jeers, he grimaced, and led her inside the house he stayed - the damage to it aside, at least it provided some shelter assuming you stayed away from the hole the tree crashed through.
Upon entry, he pulled off his jacket and let it start to dry on a hook; he'd always felt uncomfortable shirtless, so a jacket was all it was. He led her to a chair, and spoke.
"I don't know who you are, so I have to ask: how do you know my name, and why did you come looking for me?"